Faith lost
by BossaNovaBaby24
Summary: Set just after "Sometimes A Great Notion", Bill visits Laura once more and tries to get her to open up.


_**A/N**_

**_One shot set at the end of "Sometimes a Great Notion" so spoilers for that epiosde. Just a little something between Roslin and Adama. He finally manages to get her to open up a bit. Reviews and criticisms welcome._**

_**Disclaimer**_

**_I don't own any of the the characters, settings, plots etc. etc. It's all RDM._**

_Just one more couldn't hurt._

Bill's fingers drummed against the side of the glass in front of him, filled to the brim with amber liquid. His reasoning told him that he had drank far too much and it implored him to put the glass down, to think of the consequences. Bill brought the glass to his lips and the voice was silenced. Persuading a stubborn man not to do something he wanted to do was an exercise in futility after all.

He let the alcohol create a burning trail down his throat, relishing the feeling. Everything that had happened in the past few days had left him dead, and so the sweet taste of the alcohol was a haven where he could retreat to. Inside this haven, nothing could hurt him. Not the realisation that earth was a wasteland, nor the stinging shock that Dee, his former daughter-in-law and trusted confidant, had willingly put a bullet through her head. The alcohol dulled the pain, and after everything that had happened, Bill was grateful for the respite.

The glass was empty as he sat it back on the desk, his hand never leaving it. With a heavy sigh, his other hand groped for the half empty bottle beside him and he proceeded to fill the glass up again, not caring that the alcohol was splashing everywhere.

_Just one more and i'll stop._

His promise was empty, he knew it. When were they ever not? He promised to get them to a new home, earth. Empty. He promised the keep the family that was the fleet together. Empty. One empty promise after the other, what was one more on top of that?

Bill raised the glass slowly, focusing his gaze on the alcohol. He deliberated over whether to swallow the whole lot in one go, or to savour it. His debate was brought to a premature halt, however, as he heard the hatch to his quarters open, a loud creaking emanating from the other room. He winced at the sound, wondering who it was and what the hell they were doing entering the Admiral's Quarters without permission. He had only allowed one person to do that, and she was the last person who would be walking through the hatch at that moment.

He didn't even look up, just continued to stare at the glass as the person moved into sight. It was Colonel Tigh, Bill knew it without even having to acknowledge the man in any way. The brisk walk, the stiff posture. The XO drew closer and stood on the other side of Bill's desk, looking at the Admiral with his one good eye. His brow was furrowed and his jaw quivered slightly, holding back what he wanted to say. Adama didn't greet Tigh, instead he continued to focus on his glass, which he placed carefully back on the desk. There was silence while the two men wondered what to say to eachother. Tigh refused to speak first, trying to push Bill into coming out of his shell, out of his alcohol-fuelled haven. It worked, as after a few minutes, Bill finally broke the silence.

"Whatever happened to knocking?" He muttered, an edge to his voice.

Tigh stood up straighter, and that was when Adama flickered his eyes quickly over him. No missing limbs, no mournful expression. Adama wondered angrily what Tigh wanted. If the man was reporting a death or was suffering an injury, he could have been excused for bursting into his quarters. It didn't look as if either was going to be given as an excuse, however. Bill's eyes travelled back to the desk in front. Tigh placed a report down on the desk, in the Admiral's direct line of sight.

"We have had several calls in the last few minutes alone. The public are in a state of panic and the Quorum is concerned." He informed Bill, pushing the report closer. He leaned on the desk, his weight supported by his two hands that were planted firmly either side of the paperwork.

"when are they not?" Bill replied coldly, refusing to look at the reports Tigh had placed down.

"Godsdamn it, stop acting like a frakking moron!" Saul snapped, glaring at the man in front of him. He was sick of the new attitude. Earth was a crock of shit, he knew that. Life was bad, morale was verging on suicidal (in some cases it _was _suicidal) and there was just no hope. Tigh had felt this before, had felt the gut-wrenching agony, the thoughts that he would be better off dead, the sorrow of lost dreams. He had been to dark places, and he refused to let his friend Bill sink to his depth too.

"that's sir." Bill muttered, picking up his glass. He took a long sip and gritted his teeth as it once more burned his throat. Tigh watched him, not liking what he saw.

"_Sir._" He corrected himself, "They're concerned that the President is MIA."

Bill sighed. He didn't give a flying frak what the Quorum wanted, he really didn't. That was not his job.

"why should i care about their concerns?"

"You don't have to," Tigh replied evenly, standing up straight once more, his hands spread out in front of him as if to surrender, "I'm just the messenger. I'm here for a different purpose."

_Better be a frakking good one, _Bill thought to himself, although his expression was stoic as always.

"You're not here about the president?" He asked slowly.

"No Bill. I'm here about Laura."

Bill's eyebrows rose imperceptably, but it was enough to catch Tigh's attention and he quickly explained himself before Adama could dismiss him.

"No-one has seen her for three days now. The guards outside her quarters report that she hasn't been in or out. I don't know what the frak she could possibly be doing in there but ..."

Although he outwardly showed no surprise or emotion, Bill didn't like the sound of that sentence.

"But what, Colonel?"

Saul sighed softly, not wanting to have to admit he was concerned. He also didn't want to paint such a morbid picture to his friend. Why couldn't Bill just realise what he was trying to say? That man had to make things so damn difficult.

"She's unstable Bill, and unstable people do some pretty frakked up things."

Adama processed what Tigh was saying, and felt something inside him break. Laura wouldn't contemplate anything life-threatening would she? He knew she was having a crisis of faith, and a big one at that. However, she was rational, she looked at the larger picture. She wouldn't do something so selfish, so heartbreaking like Dee did ... even as he thought it, Bill was having doubts. She had turned away from him, retreated. He implored, practically begged her to carry on her Diloxin treatments and she had refused. If she was thinking irrationally then there was nothing he could do stop her.

"She won't listen to me," Bill stated evenly. Laura was as stubborn as he was, one of the many reasons he had fallen in love with her. As he looked up into Tigh's eyes, he thought he saw a glimmer of pity and Bill strengthened his resolve, "i've tried already."

"Try again. Believe it or not, you are probably the only godsdamn thing that's important to her right now. No faith, no care about the fleet. You need to get through to her."

"That will be all Colonel." Bill picked up the glass again, keeping it a couple of centimetres off of the desk surface.

"Yessir." Tigh saluted formally, knowing when to retreat. He silently hoped that he had managed to break through Bill's barriers. If the Admiral didn't do something fast, he'd lose the President. If Bill didn't do something immediately, he'd lose Laura. That was something Saul Tigh did not want to see. He walked stiffly out of the quarters, firmly pulling the hatch shut behind him.

Bill rubbed at his face wearily with his free hand, still keeping his drink hovering above the desk. He was getting too old for this. He would take a last sip and go to sleep. Maybe things would be better in the morning. _Frak that, maybe this will all be a dream, _he thought grimly, _maybe i'll wake up on earth in a nice king size bed, birds singing outside the window. _He briefly considered it, as improbable as it would be. His thoughts went to Laura. She would be there of course. There would be no happy earth without her, Bill knew that. She would be smiling radiantly, the glitter of amusement in her eyes ...

"Frak it," Bill muttered loudly, slamming the glass down on the table. He looked at it for a moment, before repeating the curse, "frak it."

He knew what he had to do. Laura could do whatever she wanted, whatever she felt right. However, Bill wasn't going to let her make any decision without knowing what he thought or how strongly he felt for her.

He pushed himself out of his chair, resting his hands flat against the desk to support himself. The conversation with Tigh seemed to have sobered him slightly, for which he was grateful. Bill moved to the mirror in the head, making sure he looked presentable. When he was sure he looked okay, he strode out of his quarters and down towards the galley.

****

"Open the hatch." Bill ordered, his voice betraying no emotion. He nodded towards the two marines stationed outside the hatch. He looked down at the tray in front of him and took a steadying breath. The plate on the tray was not at all appetising but he didn't care. It was food. With algae as their only edible substance available, he didn't have the right to be fussy about what went on the plate. Next to the plate balanced a glass containing water, which had slowly rocked from side to side as Bill journeyed from the galley to the quarters.

The marine on the right spun the wheel of the hatch, and pushed it open with ease, signalling for the Admiral to enter. Bill didn't thank the man, just nodding towards him in silent gratitude, before slowly entering the quarters, careful to keep the tray balanced.

It was dark inside. There were no lights on, no candles, nothing. Bill stopped and heard the hatch slam shut behind him, but didn't pay any attention to it. He couldn't move any further into the quarters until his eyes adjusted, and they were being painfully slow. Outlines of objects close to him came into focus, such as a desk and chair. He tried to listen for the tell-tale sounds of human life, but there was nothing. _Is she even in here? _he wondered to himself, _maybe the marines haven't seen her in three days because she wasn't in here to begin with._

It made sense, he realised, but that train of thoughts was brought to a sudden stand still when he heard a sharp intake of breath. His head automatically turned to the source of the noise, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness.

Bill precariously took one of his hands out from underneath the tray and fumbled around on the desk, searching for the lamp. Every quarters on the battlestar had a lamp on the desk, it was a basic necessity. His fingers grazed the stand and after a little while, a soft light illuminated from the desk, battling the darkness. He could see alot more now, and he slowly placed the tray down on the desk in front, moving the glass of water so it was out of the way of the direct light from the lamp. He very much doubted that she would appreciate stagnant water.

Another soft breath resounded in the room. Bill turned around and looked towards where it had come from, and this time he saw everything. Laura Roslin was lying on the rack in a foetal position. Her knees were drawn up and her hands seemed to be cupping something in front of her, it looked to be some sort of plant. It was her eyes that worried Bill. They were hollow, empty. She didn't look at him, instead looking right through him. There was no acknowledgement of his prescence. He watched her intently and noticed that she was shaking.

"Laura?" Bill slowly moved forwards. not wanting to alarm her. He didn't need to worry however, as she didn't even look up. Laura continued to stare into the distance, although her hands drew up closer to her face. Bill clasped his own hands tightly in front of him, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and hold her. She had made it clear that she didn't want him to touch her just yet, and he honoured her wishes. It made it more painful, however. He yearned to reach out and comfort her, to make it all better.

"Scuttlebutt is that you haven't eaten or had a drink for a few days now." He said softly, hoping to draw some kind of reaction. He failed abysmally though, as Laura didn't even blink. She wasn't going to open up. He decided to try something else, a familiar tactic.

"You're being lazy, Roslin," He stated boldly, his voice strong with authority. He cringed at using her last name, it had been so long since he had called her by that. It seemed too impersonal now, "get your ass out of that rack or gods help me i will pull you out of here and throw you to the press."

Nothing. Not even a ficker of an eyelid. Bill sighed inwardly, unsure of where to go from here.

"Lee has managed to placate the Quorum about earth, at least for a little while."

He tentatively took another step forwards, but stopped when his foot brushed against something. Looking down, Bill saw a book strewn haphazardly on the floor. It was once the scrolls of Pythia, the religious book by which Laura had lived her life. The ancient scrolls told of a dying leader that would lead them to the promised land, to earth. No more. The book was now black, charred intentionally by the woman in front of him. The book to her was now nothing but a lie, a travesty.

His focus was on the book at his feet and so Bill didn't notice Laura's gaze flickering up briefly, looking from him to the tray over on the desk. She didn't say anything, instead moving her head slightly, pushing her cheek into the pillow underneath her. He caught the movement and it gave him some hope. She was definitely alive at least, and she was aware of her surroundings.

"I hear," she whispered quietly, causing Adama to jump slightly at the sudden noise, "that Petty Officer Dualla has died."

He didn't know how she found it out, but couldn't bring himself to enquire. His throat constricted at the memories of being in the morgue with his son, looking down at the body of the woman before him. _She was so young, she didn't deserve the crap she was dealt, none of it. _

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing his eye. It was the only indication that the subject was a sore spot, "suicide."

"I'm sorry."

The pain in her voice was almost tangible, and Bill felt himself draw even closer. His arm reached out in front, wanting to grasp her shoulder, wanting to give her all the strength and courage he could muster. It wasn't her fault that Dee was dead, it wasn't her fault that earth was a wasteland. Yet he could tell by her voice (a skill he had been mastering for all the years he'd known her) that Laura was feeling everything so keenly, a punishment for believing she could take them to their salvation.

Laura felt his hand lightly caress her shoulder and automatically she shrugged it off.

"Don't." She said forcefully, her eyes now meeting his own. The spark there was gone. No longer a glitter of amusement, instead it was as barren as earth turned out to be.

Bill sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a step back.

"I scheduled a Diloxin appointment with Cottle for you."

"No." She replied, her voice distant.

"Damnit Laura!" He growled, "does the fleet mean that little to you? Do _I _mean that little to you?"

The last part of the sentence seemed to grab her attention and Laura lifted her head slowly off of the pillow. She pulled her upper body off of the bed, resting her weight on one of her arms. The look on her face told Bill that he had stepped over the mark. She was probably calculating how long it would take to airlock him. He didn't care, however. He needed to know that there was something there, behind the vast distance and the wall she had created around herself. He needed to see Laura again. She fixed him with a cold stare, her lips curling into a fixed smile. There was no warmth there. Seconds turned into minutes, silence surrounding them as Laura stared at Bill, deep in thought. After a while, she let out a small sigh and shook her head slowly, the forced smile still there. Bill lost it. He was sick of the rut they were both stuck in. With speed surprising to both himself and Laura, he bent down and grabbed the burnt copy of Pythia, his hands barely touching it before he stood up straight and threw it. He needed her full attention and as the book sailed through the air and hit the bulkhead with a resounding 'bang', he knew he had it.

If Laura seemed shocked by his sudden physical outburst, she hardly showed it. She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge what he could possibly do next. Bill covered the distance between them in a few easy strides, and his hands came out, grasping Laura's shoulders. It wasn't a harmful grip, in fact he tried to be as soft as he could about it. He was firm but gentle as he pulled Laura out of the rack, into a standing position in front of him.

She showed no emotions, her hands still tightly clutching the plant she had taken from earth.

"Get off of me, Bill," She said curtly, "don't touch me."

He heeded her warning, reluctantly letting his hands drop to his sides. She was standing in front of him, her whole body tense as she warily looked at Bill.

"I have promised the fleet," Bill said softly, "that i will find us all a new home."

"Promises," the word rolled off of her tongue with traces of scorn, "they're all empty in the end, you know that."

"Maybe," he conceeded quietly. He looked into Laura's eyes and felt his heart break at the emptiness he saw there, "so that's it then? you've just ... given up? lost faith?"

Her lips curled upwards in a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"faith?" She snorted softly, "I was so wrong to put everything i had in blind faith."

Bill watched as Laura turned away from him, walking towards the desk where he had previously placed the tray. She picked up the glass of water in her delicate hands, before bringing it to her lips and taking a long sip. She let out a content sigh after she had finished, putting the glass back down.

"You were right," she said and her voice, although quiet, carried across the quarters, "my death will be just as meaningless as everyone elses. I'm not the dying leader, i never was. I carried this ..." she struggled for words, "this _disease _andi thought of it as a blessing. I couldn't have been more wrong."

Bill couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Your death," he replied, "will never be meaningless, Laura. You're not the dying leader in the scrolls of Pythia, but this is a _good thing. _Now you're not controlled by prophecies. Don't resign yourself to a meaningless death, because now you can _live._"

Bill moved towards Laura and gently plucked the plant out of her closed hand. She put up a small struggle, but he managed to gently pry her fingers loose, taking the plant lightly by one of it's leaves. He took a moment just to look at it, to admire the beauty of the thing in his hand. It was a sign that earth had once been habitable, a symbol that even when everything around you was in ruins, there was still some tiny ray of hope living on.

"We make our own futures now Laura," he whispered softly, his voice gentle and reassuring as he placed the plant reverently on the desk, "no Pythia, no prophecies, just us. You and me."

The words seemed to finally catch up with Laura and she felt the emotional damn, the one that she tried so hard to build, break right before Bill's eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek, leaving a trail of moisture that Bill wiped away with the pad of his thumb. His hands moved up to cradle her face, but Laura didn't care about the physical contact. For just this moment, she allowed him to comfort her. Bill looked into her eyes and felt relief flood through him when he saw something there. There was a glimmer of life.

He cautiously drew her closer, pulling her into a secure hug. She returned it, clinging to him. Laura didn't want him to let her go, pulling him even closer, gripping at his uniform with her hands. He happily complied, resting his chin on her shoulder. After a few minutes, Bill reluctantly drew back, although he refused to lose physical contact. Who knew when she would let him touch her again. His hands once again moved up to cradle her face, and he planted a soft kiss against her temple. She smiled and it was a genuine smile.

"We're gonna find a new home Laura," He repeated his promise to her, his voice heavy with conviction, "if nothing else, have faith in that."

"I know Bill," her hands slowly came up and she grasped his wrists. With obvious reluctance, she pulled his hands away from her face, letting them fall into place by his sides. He looked at her, slightly confused, but didn't want to push her too far just yet. She saw his reaction, however, and tried to explain, "i need time."

He nodded his understanding.

"Then take it," he told her, his voice nothing more than a whisper, "i'll see you tomorrow?"

"Mmhmm." She replied in agreement, her head nodding slightly.

He gave her a dazzling smile, one filled with love and hope. Laura felt her heart constrict. It was her favourite smile, the one he reserved just for her. He turned away from her and slowly made his way towards the hatch. As he spun the wheel and opened it partially, however, her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Bill?"

He turned towards her, patiently waiting for her to continue.

"The door is always open, if you ever want to talk."

"Thankyou Madam President," he replied formally, before lowering his voice, "see you soon Laura."

"You too Bill."

**_A/N_**

**_Hate me, love me, i don't care. Hate this or love this, i DO care so let me know ;)_**


End file.
